


The Price Of An Engineer

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-18
Updated: 2006-03-17
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:25:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8091070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Malcom needs some engineering work done. It's going to cost him. (01/03/2004)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: This is for Reginabellatrix and her birthday fiction. A little late, but I wanted to make sure this was a decent fic before posting it. No parameters other than (1) a long story, (2) T/R pairing, (3) and the quote "One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love." â€”Sophocles. I'm normally an Archer/Tucker shipper, so putting in Malcolm, and doing it all in his POV, was a challenge. But I hope this brings much (belated) birthday cheer.  


* * *

It's already been a long day for me, and it isn't even half over. First there was the failure of the locking mechanisms on the doors to the new brig this morning. Very important that we get that fixed: we wouldn't want to have prisoners just being able to waltz out of the brig when a guard had their back turned. That certainly wouldn't do. I was tempted to call an engineering team in, but I decided it was best to just get it done myself. Once that was fixed I went down to the armory to go over some of the more boring reports that I'd been putting off. But that's when Major Hayes decided it was a good time to drop by the armory for a discussion on 'team responsibility' and 'security delegation'. So for the past half hour I've been playing a game of tug of war with him on several key security issues. He seems to think that certain areas of ship's security naturally fall under his jurisdiction. Naturally. I think he's just testing how far he can push me. No, I don't think that, I know that. I understand the usefulness of Hayes and his team, especially when it comes to this mission and what it means to Earth, but I'll be damned if I let him assert some sort of authority over me or my people. I'm in charge of security on this ship. And his team is working for me. Not the other way around.

"Well, Lieutenant,..."

He says my rank this like it's an insult.

"...I don't think you fully comprehend that my team is here to secure the safety of all ship's personal. Especially the captain and senior staff."

"Major,..." I try to duplicate the same distaste in my tone.

"...you seem to forget that my team is far more experienced in matters of personal security and overall ship's business. But if you really want your team to become personal body guards for the senior staff, I'll run that by them next staff meeting."

He doesn't like this. I've just reduced him to nothing more than a watch dog. That's not what he was trying to get out of this.

Before he can return the volley, the comm in the armory beeps. I half expect Hayes to reach out an answer it himself, but he looks at me in a resigned way, a gesture that says I may have won this battle but the war is far from over. I bury my irritation at this situation, it wouldn't be professional if I didn't, and answer the comm.

"Reed here"

"Malcolm, I just wanted to catch up with you on those warhead refit designs you sent me last week. They look great and I was hoping maybe we could discuss this over lunch."

The captain's voice sounds nearly relaxed, as if he's almost in a good mood. Captain Archer not being on edge—that's something that has been rare since this mission began. He's been notably distant, pushing away any real emotional contact, making himself less accessible to the crew. He stopped having breakfasts with the crew, an event I initially thought was inappropriate fraternization. Now I see it for what it was: getting to know your crew and treating them as if they were family. I regret that I criticized him for it, now that he no longer has the time for it anymore.

He's been cold, focused on this mission to the point of isolating himself. Brooding. Moody. Unapproachable even from those in the crew who are good friends. Its nice to see the ice melting a bit, to see the Captain act like his old self, even if it is for a brief time.

"Lunch would be lovely sir,"

"Good. How about the Captain's Mess, in a half an hour?"

"Very good sir. I shall see you there."

He logs off and I turn back to Hayes. There isn't any more to discuss here, and Hayes knows he'll get nothing more out of this. He nods his heads and dismisses himself, not waiting for me to reply.

It really is a wonder I don't suffer from migraines. Or maybe Hayes is my own personal migraine. I'm sure that would thrill him to no end.


	2. Chapter 2

As I make my way to the mess hall, I'm going over the data I sent the Captain. I glance up from the PADD only occasionally when I'm greeted by a crew member. I'm sure this must look detached and cold to people, but I'm far more comfortable buried in my work than I am in socializing with people. I know this comes across as me being uptight and overly stuffy -'British' they say, as if that magically explains everything—but truth be told, I'm just a rather private person. No, more than that. I think I could even be described as incredibly shy, although I do all I can to hide that fact.

I don't have many close friends. And there are only a few people on Enterprise that I feel very at ease with; only a hand full of people that I would truly like to be close friends with. Some of them more than others.

One in particular.

But that one has never noticed and even if he did, I know that his position is a difficult one—a senior officer and former lover of Captain Archer. And while I'm not completely sure what his relationship is now with the Captain, I know what it once was. And I know the intensity to which that relationship once had on him. On them both. It's not like I can just come in and fill that void.

Things are different now, now that the we're in the Expanse. And the Captain's different. He no longer has time for anything else other than the mission: its an all consuming job. He no longer has time for a lover: that's a distraction he doesn't need at the moment.

I chastise myself: I should be more like him. I shouldn't be thinking of my love life, but rather I should be solely focused on the ship and the crew and getting us all back safe and sound. Now if only my brain could tell the rest of me this. I wouldn't be waking up from sweaty, lust-filled dreams, clutching the sheets, and jerking myself off to the images of soft lips on my skin and those bright, sky blue eyes that I long for. I fantasize, on those nights I wake up from those sexy dreams, of his naked body wriggling underneath me, or his lips kissing the head of my cock. I dream about it but that's all it is, a dream.

I have to mentally compose myself as I walk into the mess—it wouldn't do to met your superior officer when your lower half is getting a little overly animated. Of course all my composure is thrown out the airlock when take in my surroundings and see the object of my desire, so handsome, so eye-catching, sitting at the far end of the mess. I have to adjust my brain to focus and be professional.

Of course I had noticed him right away, like I always do, silly prat that I am. He's just sitting there with Travis, laughing and joking. I'm sure he doesn't realize how stunning he is: cutting a striking figure in his uniform, his blond hair perfectly neat, combed back. I'd like to see that blond hair tousled and messy—I'd like to see that fine uniform of his on my floor. I stop myself from staring and move towards the doors to the Captain's Mess. Before I reach it I hear Travis's voice call out to me.

"Lieutenant!"

Travis smiles enthusiastically and waves me over. I nod then make a quick detour to their table. Mustn't be rude. And I'm a little early anyway.

"Ensign, Commander,"

"Now why do you insist on calling me Commander, Malcolm?"

Trip Tucker winks at me. He's such a bloody flirt. If he only knew what he does to me when he puts on that wonderful Southern charm. Or maybe he knows exactly what he's doing.

"Meeting the Captain for lunch?" Travis asks.

"He wants to go over some data on the weaponry systems I proposed. The Captain thinks some refits might be a good option, as do I."

"So it looks like you'll be needing some of my people down in the armory,"

"If the Captain approves, then yes. An engineering team would be quite helpful. I hope you have some people to spare," I'm being sarcastic. They expect this from me. Mustn't disappoint.

"Don't know how many people I can spare. And it might cost you." Trip jabs a playful elbow at Travis who grins broadly.

"Indeed?" I keep an even tone, acting as if I am not amused.

"What do you say Travis? What should I charge?"

"Oh definitely something like some Andorian Ale or maybe some really expensive chocolates." They both laugh.

"Well I'll keep that in mind, _Commander_ ," I stress his rank, just to be snarky. It sounds so formal coming out of my mouth, but I can't suppress my smile. As much as I'm enjoying their company, it time for me to see the Captain. I excuse myself and head into the Captain's Mess.


	3. Chapter 3

As I expected, the Captain was more then willing to let me go through with the refits. When I get back to the armory I start to organize what I'll need and how many people I'll need to work on it. I send a message to Trip's workstation in Engineering requesting one engineer and one tech to help out. I don't expect a response until end of shift, so I'm pleasantly surprised when I see a new message coming in from Trip.

>>> How much you willing to spend, hotshot?

He's such a child. But I can't resist. There's something about his boyish charm and playfulness that just makes me smile. That and the fact that I want to rub my naked body against his. I push those naughty thoughts out of my mind and I send a message back:

>>> I'm sure we can come to an agreement. How much do you think a tech and an engineer are worth nowadays?

He must have been waiting for me to respond because his reply is instantaneous. It must be a slow day in Engineering.

>>> Can you really put a price on an engineer? A tech maybe, but an engineer? I think we're priceless.

You are priceless, Trip Tucker. But that's not a comment I can make to him, now is it?

>>> How much for just the tech?

>>> Oh no! You give me a price for the engineer and I throw in the tech for free.

I'm starting to think he's serious. Well two can play at that game.

>>> I have a bottle of very nice, unopened Scotch. Good year too. I could be persuaded into sharing it with you if that buys me a team.

>>> Share? Well, depends on how good this Scotch is, now doesn't it?

>>> Come to my quarters after dinner and find out.

I can't believe I just did that. To me it's obvious I just made a blatant pass at him. A part of me hopes he sees this. Another part of me hopes that he doesn't catch on, that he thinks this is a teasing moment between friends and I can continue to long for him, perhaps even love him, from afar. I don't want to mess up our friendship but I really do want him. Badly.

>>> 0:800 then. And it better be good Scotch.

I stare at the message for a long moment. This can't be happening. Does Trip realize what I have on my mind? He just called my bluff and I have no choice but to carry this thing through. My inner voice tells me that I should back out of this somehow. Make an excuse not to be available for 08:00. But I was the one who initiated this. How can I suddenly back out now without it looking suspicious?

Maybe we can just share the Scotch and that's all. We are friends after all. I can push my feelings for him aside and act as normal as possible, can't I? Just because he'll be in my quarters doesn't mean I can or should jump his bones, right?

He must be wondering why I haven't responded yet. I make up my mind quickly.

>>> 08:00 it is then.

Now all I have to do is remain focused for the rest of my shift and pray that I have the courage to do what I think I'm about to do tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm pacing the floor of my quarters. I can't recall when I've been more nervous. It's like a first date, although I'm still not sure Trip knows I plan on seducing him tonight. But I intend to finally kiss his lips: they look so soft, so delicious. I plan on running my hands up and down his taut, muscular body. I plan on doing a lot to him tonight, provided he's willing.

I wring my hands as I pass by the table for the umpteenth time, the bottle of Scotch and two glasses sitting atop. I run into the bathroom one last time to check my hair, my clothes, make sure I look okay. Bloody hell I'm acting just like a school girl. If Trip doesn't show up soon I'm going to work myself into some kind of nervous episode.

Thankfully before that happens my door chimes. I hurry to open it.

"Please come in," I say as I usher him forward.

"Don't mind if I do," he smiles at me as he walks past. He's wearing a pale blue t-shirt that almost matches the color of his eyes. The thin material clings to his muscles, emphasizing how much he works out. His jeans are impossibly tight. I find myself staring at his ass as he walks towards the table and picks up the bottle of Scotch.

"So you think you can buy me with this?" He turns to me, still with that lovely smile on his face.

"I figure you to be a cheap date Mr. Tucker." That didn't come out as coy as I wanted to be.

"Cheap?"

I walk up to him, as close as I dare to get, which is pretty damn close. We're face to face, our bodies are only a hairs length apart.

"Maybe 'cheap' isn't the right word. How about 'inexpensive'?" I reach around him and grab the glasses. My arm brushes against his side and I let it linger there for a moment before I bring the two tumblers forward.

"That's more like it." He winks.

He hasn't moved. We're only a stitch apart. I hold the glasses in one hand and gesture to the bottle in his.

"Shall we?" I ask.

He leans into me, his chest touching mine. I can feel the heat of his body through his t-shirt. That heat shoots down to my groin, delightfully warming, and my cock starts to pay close attention.

"You think we should have this now or later?" His face is so close to mine I can feel his breath on my lips. I don't bother to answer: I can't. I'm nearly delirious with the nearness of him. I lean in closer and kiss those soft lips gently. If he were to walk out now, I'd kick myself for this stunt. But somehow I think he's more than open to this. And I'm immensely thankful when it turns out that I'm right. Trip returns the kiss, tenderly at first then with more passion. I open my mouth and allow his tongue to plunge in. I'm almost breathless with desire and I drop the tumblers on the carpet. They bounce away—I'm so very glad they didn't break—one rolling under the desk the other landing half way towards the door.

"Put the bottle down," I say through the kiss.

"Then what?" Trip's voice is muffled by my mouth.

I step back, eyeing his gorgeous body as I do "I'll show you,"

I remove my shirt as quickly as possible, tossing it over the back of the nearest chair. I'm sure he expects me to fold it or hang it up or something, but I'm really not that anal. Then I lean in and remove the bottle from Trip's hands, lowering it onto the desk before I take my hands and rub them up and down his t-shirt, feeling his tight chest and taut stomach muscles. Slowly, I pull his shirt up and place my hands inside to touch warm, bare flesh. I let my fingers glide up and down his chest, my thumbs grazing his nipples, feeling them become hard, before I pull his t-shirt off over his head. He leans in for another kiss, and we're now bare chest to bare chest.

This kiss is hot and hungry, and every fiber of my being is being draw into Trip Tucker's sensuous mouth, his luxurious tongue. His hands have found their way to the front of my pants and he slowly rubs my full erection. I'm panting and sucking his tongue. His pants are too tight for me to push my hands in though I make the effort.

"How the hell did you get into these bloody jeans?" I ask as Trip works his way to kissing my earlobe. I moan as he nips there, his hands working me through my own jeans. I feel his erection against my leg, straining against the material, yearning to be released. I want to free that cock and jerk him off. But I settle instead to move my hands to his beautiful ass.

"Same way I'm getting them off." He whispers. His breath so hot, his voice low and sultry. And as he speaks he undoes the button at the top of my jeans then slides the zipper down. I gasp as cool air rushes in. Then Trip's hand encloses around my cock in one swift motion. He beings to jerk me off slowly through my boxers. It occurs to me that I wasn't the only one thinking of seducing someone tonight. Apparently Trip did notice my come on. Or maybe he was the one coming on to me.

I'm trying to remain composed, biting my lower lip as Trip sucks on my earlobe while his hand tightens around my erection, slowly moving up and down along my shaft. He is moving his mouth down to my throat, my collar bone, then to my chest. He trails kisses down my skin, soft and wet. I let out an audible gasp as Trip's soft lips kiss my nipples, one after the other, then he lowers himself further down my body. When he gets his mouth to my navel, he removes his hand from my cock, and pulls my jeans down around my ankles. My boxers are next, falling by my feet, on top of my jeans. Trip uses his tongue to lap at my navel, playing along it, around it: it is an extremely sensitive area for me, and I'm nearly dizzy with pleasure. Feeling his tongue drive deep in and out of my navel is heavenly. I place one hand on his shoulder, the other I lay on his head, toying with his golden hair. I know where he's going here and I can barely contain myself when he moves even lower, kissing and sucking his way further down. I want his lips on my cock so bad, I almost thrust my hips closer to his face. But I restrain myself: there will be plenty of time later for me to lose control, if I chose to do so. And I get the feeling I will be choosing to lose complete control to Trip Tucker.

And then he gets to my throbbing erection. His hot wet mouth surrounds me in one quick motion and I moan low and loud. At this, a deep chuckle escapes Trip, muted by my dick entrapped in between his lips. I'm no longer being completely restrictive of myself and I urge my cock deep in his mouth, keeping an even rhythm with his own movements as Trip sucks me. My hands are entwined in his silky hair and I look down to see him, his head bobbing up and down on my dick. It is a glorious sight and one I thought I would never see. I feels so wonderful, so glorious. But I want to do more than have Trip Tucker suck me off tonight. There is a lot I want to do. How I let him take charge of this situation, I don't know. I was supposed to seduce him tonight and here he is, working me. That's about to change.

I reach my hands down below Trip's jaw and gently guide his head away from my dick and up to face me.

"Much as I enjoy that love, I have other ideas."

He has a mischievous looks in those sky blue eyes of his, but he doesn't protest.

"Whatever you say, darling. I'm game if you are."

Music to my ears.

I guide him up to his feet and kiss him intensely, our tongues dancing with each other. I drink in his taste as if I've never tasted anything so sweet as Trip Tucker. I'm all set to move us to the bed when I realize I have my trousers and pants bunched up by my feet. With some careful movements, while still having my lips locked with Trip's, I step out of my clothes. Pulling back I stand completely naked in front of him, Trip, a man who is about to become my lover. The sight of him, hot, hard, his erection straining in his jeans, is even better than all of my wet dreams combined. The outline of his cock in those impossibly tight jeans is impressive: I knew Trip was well equipped, but this was better than I expected. I reach out and take one of his hands in mine.

"Come with me,"

He follows without a word, never losing eye contact with me. The desire in his eyes is apparent, and he's as breathless as I am.

When I get him to the bed I sit down in front of him and try to open the front of his jeans. It's a struggle but I'm able to finally free his glorious dick and lower his jeans enough to expose his tight ass and smooth sack. He's not wearing anything under those jeans, which is probably how he got them on in the first place. One of my hands wraps around the base of his sizeable cock. The other reaches around to grab his ass. I then flick out my tongue and roll it over the head of his cock, leaving it covered with hot saliva. I'm rewarded with a "Oh Jesus, Malcolm," in that sexy Southern accent; an accent which seems to be getting thicker and thicker as Trip gets more and more worked up.

I keep licking the head of his penis, moving my tongue back and forth, the hand at the base of his cock squeezing gently. I knead his ass, moving my hand lower to position myself so that my fingers are near his asshole. I slowly dip down and run my fingers around the opening, feeling the tight flesh there. I didn't lube my fingers up, so I'm extra gentle when I insert my middle finger slowly into his ass. Trip moans, his fingers wrapped in my hair, and I push my finger in, half way inside him. While I do this my lips enclose the head of his dick, my tongue circles over the slit of his cock moving along it lightly. I can hear him panting, feel his body tighten around my finger as I push it in a little more, his cock gets harder. His reactions demonstrate that he's enjoying this immensely. And I'm getting hotter just knowing that I'm the one making Trip squirm and wriggle in delight. I swallow the rest of his cock, slipping my tongue along the underside of it and push my finger all the way into his tight ass.

"Oh God Malcolm. You'll make me come just doing this," Trip groans out between gasping breath. "You're going to have to stop,"

I'm wasn't about to stop yet, but I heed Trip's warning—I don't want to have him ejaculate too soon. A little more sucking and I pull my finger out of his ass. As I lift my lips off his cock, I give a tight squeeze to the base before letting go.

"Take off those ridiculously tight jeans," I tell him.

As he steps back I see that his face is flushed, as I'm sure mine is as well. He looks impossibly sexy as he rids himself of the last of his clothing. And there his is, naked, horny, and so unbelievably hot. I hadn't realized that my hand had wandered to my cock and that I was stroking myself while staring at his fine body, thinking of all my fantasies. I've wanted him here for so long, wanted him in my quarters, naked and waiting to be fucked. And now I have him. And I want him to shove his cock in me and make love to me all night because he is mine and I am his.

"You want some help with that?" He moves back to the bed gesturing to my hand which is still slowly working my dick.

"What I want, Trip Tucker," I say as I move forward, my lips brushing against his, "Is for you to take that splendid cock of yours and fuck me."

"Let's do it," Trip replies, and he maneuvers us so that we are now lying down on the bed. I give up all control to Trip. I want him. I trust him. I let go and let him do with me what he will. He shifts us so that I am on my stomach, slightly raised on my knees and he moves behind me. The tube of lubricate that I so wisely left in the nightstand is put to good use: Trip spreads some on his fingers and begins to stretch me out. He inserts a finger, slowly at first, but we're both so worked up that in no time he is pushing two fingers deep into me. Two becomes three and I'm biting my lip to stop from crying out. I still can't believe that he is here about to make love to me. He incorporates a fourth finger and I find that I am pushing down on his hand as he is pushing his fingers in.

"Getting a little impatient, are we?" I can hear his smile in the tone of his voice.

"Bloody get on with it Trip. I need you. I need your cock. Badly. You have to fuck me now."

"Well, we can't have you begging, now can we?"

I suddenly feel an emptiness as Trip removes his fingers from me. And from behind me Trip asks "Ready darling?"

"Yes, love. Please."

There is a suddenly flash of hotness, almost burning, but more pleasure than pain. Trip's cock drives into me about half way. A loud moan escapes me as Trip plunges his cock all the way inside. His hands are locked on my hips bones, steadying us both.

"Damn. You're so tight Malcolm. So fucking good. I never imagined that this would be so damn good to be inside you."

I can't respond to him, I'm too busy concentrating on him fucking me, how good it feels, his fast, rhythmical motions as he thrusts in and out of me. I grab my cock and begin to stroke myself again. I know I'm not going to last, but I don't think Trip's going to last that much longer than me: his thrusting is already becoming erratic and his breath is coming out in gasps. His thick cock fills me perfectly, a nice, tight fit. And suddenly I let myself go, give myself completely to Trip: I feel like I'm dissolving into him, becoming part of him, opening up myself to him in a way that I didn't think I could. And then my orgasm rocks my body, causing me to tremble and shudder underneath my lover as I moan his name, cum jetting from my cock in what feels like never ending ejaculation. I'm grateful that Trip his holding my hips, without that support I'd probably collapse.

Through my blissfully contented haze, I become aware that Trip is reaching his own conclusion. He is thrusting frantically, breathlessly. He is fast approaching orgasm. And when he does, his body tenses briefly, and Trip cries out loudly, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips. His body convulses as he falls into orgasm and his cock jerks as he spills his seed deep inside me.

He holds onto me for a minute or two before separating himself from me and rolling on his side. I turn to face him; he looks wonderful, so fresh off his orgasm. His hair is mussed the way I like it, and he looks so satisfied, so peacefully unguarded and open. He leans in and kisses me. This is a gentle kiss, affectionate, trusting, loving.

"I've been dreaming of this for a long time," he says.

I run my hand along the line of his jaw.

"Not as long as I have," I reply.

He smiles at that and pulls me closer. I snuggle into his chest. I realize just how deep my feelings are for him; I'm almost scared at the intensity to which I feel for this man.

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love."

"What did you say, Malcolm?"

I hadn't realized I said it out loud.

"I said, 'One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love.' it's a quote from a philosopher named Sophocles. I'm just suddenly reminded of it, that's all."

He is silent for a moment. Then Trip asks, "You love me Malcolm?"

He's so bloody to the point. I'd find it annoying, if I didn't think it so refreshing. I think for a moment before replying:

"Yes I believe that I do."

I look up at him, moving my face so that we are eye to eye. He doesn't flinch, doesn't turn away. There is a look in his face that I can't identify. I don't know what it is, but it's not a negative emotion. More like he's searching to identify his emotions, to articulate what it is that he his feeling.

"You don't have to say anything to that Trip. I understand. I can't help the way I feel about you but I'm not going to force you into anything."

"I'm not being forced," he replies. "I want to be here. With you. I've wanted to make love to you for such a long time. I want you. I care about you..."

"...but you don't love me. And that's fine Trip."

He's still looking into my eyes.

"I don't know how I feel." he says finally. That's not what I was expecting to hear, but at least he is being truthful.

"It wasn't too long ago that I was with Jon," he continues. "Things are so different for me now. But that doesn't mean that I can't love you or that I don't love you. I just don't know if I do and I don't want to be hurt again. Not like what happened with Jon and me. I couldn't bear to go through that again. It still hurts. But I want a relationship with you Malcolm. I want to be with you. Can we do that? Can we be together?"

"Of course we can." Having Trip open up to me, to be honest about such a painful subject as his relationship with the captain, well it's an honor to know that he trusts me so much. That he feels comfortable enough with me to tell me something so personal. And in my heart, I love him all the more.

I pull him in for a long kiss. Then I decide to change the subject.

"So just how much is a Starfleet engineer worth these days?" I ask

"For you? I think we can work out a payment plan," Trip smiles.

"Payment plan? Like what?"

"Sex. Lots of sex." he winks at me.

"Well I can be persuaded to repeat this previous performance, if you like."

"Another round of hot sex like that, and I'll be your personal engineer."

"Really? I like the sound of that." I do.

"And you thought I was cheap."

I kiss him again; a tender, thoughtful kiss. Maybe later I will break open the Scotch. And maybe later I will entice Trip into taking a shower with me. I most certainly will be asking him to stay the night here. I love him, and for me, at this moment that is enough. And as for the price of this engineer, of Trip Tucker, well, I go back to my original opinion: he's priceless. And that's just another reason why I adore him.


End file.
